Sometimes it’s not even the memory that catches you, but the lack of one.
The moment you sit, in a moment, and breathe it in. And you realise how different now is to then, and what now means to you.
It’s a mirror, that moment that you see sometimes. A mirror that looks at your past and you can finally have something to compare it against because now is comparatively better.
Sometimes it’s not better by much. Those mirror moments don’t show you grand sweeping changes, but just little hints at what things were. You catch your breath as you look into that mirror and see a world that is different to your own. Sometimes, you cry, just a little, at how bad it was even though you didn’t realise it back then. Then sometimes, you cry because you didn’t realise how bad it was back then and you are so, so very glad that you didn’t realise it.
A mercy, of sorts. You couldn’t have dealt with the reality back then. But now, in those mirror moments, you can give yourself context to a world you did not understand. You can breathe forgiveness into a time which was too dark to see such things. You can be kind, and show kindness to your past self that at the time, was not forthcoming from the world.
And sometimes, on the few occasions that your world stands still, you can invite your past to get a glimpse of your future. The future you build, and the future you are building still with bloodied hands and bruises limbs. The future that you are carving out from the ruins of the world and making your own.
You like to think the past version of yourself sees this future. But you know they don’t, because you didn’t back then.
But you still hope, that maybe, just sometimes, your past self will see it.
And they will find hope.
Enjoy this flash fiction? Check out some of my others below!
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